A/N So I was listening to This is Gospel by Panic! At The Disco and had an idea. came up with this. I think its kinda cool Enjoy <3
It took me several days to notice the newest addition to the flat. I had returned to work at the clinic, hoping for some sense of normality since Mary had left with Rosie and I moved back to Baker Street. My shifts at the clinic were long ones, and by the time I came home I was too tired to care about what Sherlock was doing or what he had done to the place. That is why it took me so long to notice the change. I first noticed it as I sat in my armchair one day, enjoying my day off. It caught my eye and I searched my mind to try and figure out why there was a piano sitting in our living room.
"We have a piano?"
"Yep,"
"Why?"
"I wanted to play the piano."
"Oh, do you know how to play?"
"Not yet,"
"I see." That was the end of the conversation, and neither of us brought it up again. I never saw him play it, nor did I have any interest in trying to play it myself. I love music, but have never been any good at making instruments sound pleasant. Unlike other things in the flat, the piano always seemed to remain clean, nothing ever finding a home on the black wood.
He must play it when I am at work. I thought whenever I would remember the instrument sitting there in the corner.
Months passed before I remembered the piano again. We had just come home from Scotland Yard and I was yelling at Sherlock. We had been chasing some criminal though the streets of London when the man had decided to take a flying leap off a bridge. Not giving a shit about what could happen, Sherlock had followed him. I had screamed his name as I watched in horror as he flew from the railing, feeling my stomach drop to my knees as my mind flashed back to the day I had to watch him fall from the hospital. He had made it out unscathed, and didn't seem to understand why I was so angry with him.
"John, I was trying to catch him! The bridge wasn't nearly high enough to kill anyone that jumped from it. You should have known that, you are certainly clever enough-"
"That is not the point Sherlock!" I felt a twinge of guilt for shouting. Sherlock isn't good with emotions so there was no way he could fathom what was going through my head. "I thought-" I felt my throat tighten as I spoke; "I thought you were going to die, and I couldn't watch that, not again." I turned and practically ran up the stairs to my bedroom, slamming the door behind me. I sat on the edge of my bed, blinking back the tears as I fought to keep myself from breaking down. The flat was silent for a few minutes and I assumed that he had shrugged off my words and gone to bed. I felt sleep start to wear at the edge of my vision when a soft sound floated up the stairs.
Sherlock was playing the piano. I left my room and quietly walked down the stairs. Sherlock looked perfect sitting there in front of the keys, his posture flawless and fingers unwavering as he played. I started to recognise the song, a version of a Panic! At The Disco song called 'This is Gospel' that I had just heard on the radio the other day. I leaned against the door frame and listened to the soothing sounds coming from the piano.
Then Sherlock started to sing.
This is gospel for the fallen ones
Locked away in permanent slumber
Assembling their philosophies
From pieces of broken memories
His voice was deep, only wavering slightly when he started. I sat in stunned silence as he continued the sad melody.
